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Sunday, 25 November 2012

To be Forgotten

‘Two will not be rejected, Supplication when the Adhan (call of prayer) is being called, and at the time of the rain’.

Abu Dawud & ibn Majah

It is 3:07am , the year 2022. There is an hour left until Fajr and I am awake listening intently to the rain. My body lulled out of bed, the same way it was all those years ago. Perched knees sink into the pillow as the curtains quiver along with these fingertips.

I am a sleep deprived fool and a fool when fully rested too. There is nothing to see here , there are no stars when it rains , there are never any stars but I still stare into the pre-Fajr darkness. It is as if I am looking at the sound, the crisp lines of rain reverberate, like the strokes of an artist, in the soul of the painted. Yes, I am a fool, most definitely.

Ten years have passed and I still cry at the sound of the rain , out of habit mostly. I remember anxious eyes leaving to break their fast in more ways than one , hand in hand with him. She tells me religious things before she sins ,to comfort me, to call for help, I never did find out which. It doesn't matter now, I wasn't able to answer her. She is words of that water was delicious, the taste of Quran on her throat. She is texts saying I'll never be a good muslim no matter how much I try. She is gone though remembered and I am here, easing myself away from the window, for fajr, for prayer.